The Soul Runs Deeper than the Heart
by Meister Kasper
Summary: Storage for my Tumblr prompts. A bunch of One-Shots of various pairs ranging from Fluff to Smut and to my personal favorite, Angst. KidxLiz - Chs 1 and 3. SoulxMaka- 2, 4, 5. Chapters 4 and 5 are for Soma NSFW Week 2015.
1. Eyelashes (Modern OCD AU)

**4/14/15**  
**Modern OCD AU.**  
**Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort**  
**Warnings: OCD triggers/mentions**

**Prompt: Things you said when you were drunk**  
**Pairing: KidxLiz**

* * *

Kid only drank when things got really bad - when the gnawing feeling at the base of his neck wouldn't go away and his books were never straight enough, when no matter how many times he rearranged the pencils on his desk it would never be perfect, or when he couldn't stop himself from scrubbing his hands until his skin was peeling and raw.

When he was drunk, the disarray was hushed. When he was drunk the only pain he felt was from his cracked palms instead of the unbearable frenzy that stirred in his head.

When Kid was drunk he said stupid things, but at least he could breathe without counting the number of times he inhaled in threes.

Kid had made sure his door was shut before he took a bottle of alcohol from the stash he kept under his bed for emergencies like this. The cap came off with a pop and pathetic fizz and tumbled to the ground. For a moment Kid held the bottle up to his face, staring back at his disoriented reflection. The contours of the bottle made his face bend in asymmetrical globs.

Though to him it might as well have been a mirror.

Because the straight A, honor roll, NYU grad student could only see himself as imperfect.

No matter how many times he tried to wash the invisible dirt from under his fingernails he would always feel like a mess.

Kid sighed and took a long gulp from the bottle. Fiery liquid slipped down his throat and Kid had to fight to keep it down, because he knew it was only a temporary fix - and a cowardice one at that.

When he sobered up in the morning he'd feel the same as he always had. That, plus a killer headache.

He heard the soft but confident footsteps of his roommate walk across the hallway. "Kid!" Liz called. "Hey I'm home. Sorry it's so late, I had to help Maka pickout a new outfit for her date with Soul and god knows she has some serious fashion issues."

Liz. Supportive, kind, beautiful Liz.

"Have you eaten yet?"

Kid couldn't answer as he drained the bottle, eyes squeezed shut as he forced down the drink.

"Kid?" The knock came from his door.

When he didn't answer the door squeaked open a couple inches and Liz poked her head inside.

She saw the emptied bottle, the distress on her roommate's face as he let slowly sunk into his desk chair.

"Oh my god," she breathed. Liz walked over, turning the swivel chair so that he was forced to look blankly up into her eyes.

"I'm so tired," was all he told her.

"Of what?"

"Of feeling."

The effects of the alcohol were beginning to flood his head in a hazy blanket. The world became fuzzy, but at least he could relax. The bottle dropped from his hands and shattered across the floor in odd directions. The last few sips spilled amongst the shards.

What a mess.

Liz's gaze flickered to the glass for a second before returning to her friend. Slowly, she kneeled so she didn't have to bend over.

Kid would've stopped her if he'd been sober enough to react. She would cut herself if she did that.

"Why didn't you call me?" she asked. "I would've come home sooner."

Kid looked up through messy bangs.

The last rays of the sun shining in through his window made her hair hair glow.

"Three," he whispered.

"What?"

"Three," Kid repeated, his words beginning to slur. "You have three freckles on your nose." He reached out and grabbed her face, thumbs running across the bridge of her nose.

Liz gasped slightly, but didn't move. Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks like feathers.

Kid liked it best when she wasn't wearing makeup. That way he could see her eyelashes.

"And you have two hundred and four eyelashes," Kid murmured, hands still cupping her face.

She wasn't wearing makeup. Kid liked it better that way. When Liz didn't wear makeup her skin radiated gold instead of powdery white.

"You're beautiful," he sang softly, eye's drooping half-closed.

Beneath Kid's hands Liz's cheeks turned pink. "How much did you drink?"

"Not enufffffff," he answered. It was getting harder to speak properly.

Liz removed his hands from her face, softly examining his raw fingers and palms.

Kid cringed and pulled them away, folding them together so tightly he began to shake. "Not enough."

Liz pulled him from his chair and Kid sunk into her hug. Glass cut into her legs but she didn't budge.

"How many eyelashes did you say I had?" Liz asked.

Kid breathed deeply. She smelled like vanilla. "Two hundred…. n' four."

"Then I wish on all two hundred and four of them that you feel alright again," she said.

Her lips were warm against his as she kissed him. It was soft, tender, chaste with no intention other than to help him know he was loved.

Everyday after that, everytime Liz lost an eyelash she would wish for Kid to feel better. She wished that someday his OCD wouldn't drive him to insanity and that the blisters on his hands would heal.

Maybe after that she would allow herself to kiss him for other reasons.


	2. Melody (College AU)

**4/30/15**  
**College AU**  
**Genre: Fluff**  
**Warnings: ...well Maka ends up in her bra but iT'S INNOCENT I SWEAR**

**Prompt: You have a pet in your dorm and I have to help you hide it from the RA  
****Pairing: SoulxMaka**

_Alright let's be real we all know Soul is a huge dork who would totally go nuts over a freaking puppy..._

* * *

Maka's books went flying through the air as something knocked her legs from under her. She landed hard on her butt and her anatomy textbook hit her on the head, but what she was really focused on was the _freaking dog _that'd tripped her.

What the hell?

The dog - well, the puppy - continued its merry trot down the dormitory hallway. Long ears dragged across the carpet and its paws looked about two sizes too big.

Maka grumbled to herself as she picked up her books. Pets were strictly forbidden in the dorms. What moron decided to let their puppy loose in the hallways?

"Hey!" someone shouted. "Hey! Get that dog!"

Oh. _That _moron.

Maka turned to see Soul "Eater" Evans, resident slacker and self proclaimed "ironic hipster" - whatever that meant - jogging towards her. His long (ish) white hair was messily shoved out of his face with a thin black headband and, judging by his clothes, it must've been laundry day. Or actually... maybe it wasn't.

Maka rolled her eyes, pushed her books to the side, and did a quick sprint to the waddling puppy.

Soul was next to her a few seconds later. "Thanks," he panted. "Sorry. Accidently left the door open and she made me chase her around campus."

Maka narrowed her eyes, holding the dog in her arms. "The rules say no pets, _Eater_."

"Oh c'mon." Soul gave her an attempt at an innocent grin. "She's a stray. What, was I supposed to do, leave her on the streets?"

The puppy licked Maka's ear. "There's a shelter in the city," she answered simply. "You should've taken your Beagle _there_."

"_Melody _does not belong in a shelter," Soul corrected, sounding strangely offended. "And she's a _Basset Hound, _not a Beagle."

"Well Melody does not belong in the dorms," Maka argued back. "You wanna get kicked out?"

Before Soul could protest pounding footsteps came from around the corner. "Mr. Evans?" a sharp voice shouted.

"Oh _shit_," Soul hissed. He jammed his keys into his room one door away and kicked the door open.

...since when could that sleepy stoner move so _fast_?

Maka turned to the noise. "Wha-"

Her sentence was cut off when Soul grabbed her by the arm and yanked her inside.

"Soul, what are you-"

He mashed his hands over her mouth. "Shutuphe'scoming!"

"Mmmmpphh." She tore her head away. "_What is going on_?"

"The RA's coming," Soul whispered. "Quick!" He kicked open the closet behind them and shoved Maka and the puppy inside.

Maka's annoyed "_Hey," _was muffled by the mountain of clothes that tumbled from who-knows-where as she fell backwards into Soul's closet.

"Mr. Evans," the RA's voice echoed through the doorway. "Did I just see you with a pet?"

"Uh. No sir…"

The two went back and forth for a while, but Maka was too concerned with unearthing herself from the mountain of smelly shirts that'd landed everywhere.

The puppy - Melody - yelped and Maka gave her a stern _shhh_… which surprisingly seemed to work. But one of its nails snagged in her shirt and Melody began flailing her paws in panic.

Maka groaned softly in frustration and attempted to lift the puppy over her head to detach its nail, but it only pulled her shirt _completely off _her torso.

With the fabric now wrapped around her face Maka sighed in defeat. The puppy managed to detach itself seconds later.

"Step aside, Mr. Evans," the RA demanded. "If you have nothing to hide then let me look around for a bit."

Still wearing her shirt mask, Maka grabbed a handful of clothes and threw it over the puppy.

Only when the closet was flooded with light did Maka realize she was sitting in a stranger's closet _without a shirt on_.

She gasped and ripped the shirt off her head, leaving her completely exposed in her white cotton bra.

Both men gawked down at her and all three flushed red.

"Oh uh…. sorry," the RA stammered. "Didn't know you had a girl over… I just thought I heard something barking or… or _whining _or something."

"Uhm. Right." Soul nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "That must of been her uh… the _noises _you heard."

Oh he better not.

Maka gave him her best 'Soul Eater Evans I swear to got I will deck you right here' face.

"Yeah," Soul confirmed as the story formed in his head. He forced a chuckle. "She gets a little loud sometimes," he told the RA, adding in a wink and a shoulder nudge.

Oh _hell_ no.

The RA disappeared before Soul could finish his elaborate - and strangely detailed - story about how Soul had brought Maka back to his room and how-

"OW JESUS FUCK!" Soul howled. "Where the hell did you find a book?"

Maka huffed and pulled her shirt back on. "I think the correct term would be '_thank you' _for pretending to be one of your hookups," she snapped. "And actually I'm kinda hungry so if you want to make it up to me you could take me out-"

"HOLY SHIT, MAKA WHY ARE YOU SMOTHERING MY PUPPY IN MY FUCKING LAUNDRY?"


	3. Beautiful (Post Canon)

**6/19/15**  
**Post Canon Setting**  
**Genre: Fluff... maybe? Sorta?**  
**Warnings: ...**

**Prompt: You tripped, I caught you and it looks like I'm dipping you  
****Pairing: KidxLiz**

* * *

The DWMA Truce Ball. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Patty had ran off with Black Star when an army of Caterers came out with Horderves; petite fruit tarts and overly pretentious mini quiches balanced on silver platters.

Kid was off schmoozing the attending witches somewhere else.

Liz sighed and swirled a tiny pink umbrella around in her drink. Things like this weren't any fun without her sister and her meister.

Whistles caught her attention.

New students; one, two, three, four boys - two pairs of new partnerships. They grinned at her, eyebrows raising suggestively.

Fucking idiots. In a few weeks Death City and a few life threatening missions (okay, maybe not _life threatening_ just yet, but maybe Stein could plan something) would whip some respect into those four, but until then - fucking idiots.

Liz raised an eyebrow, hoping her cold reaction would be enough to get her point across.

Obviously not taking the hint, they sauntered toward her, chins held high in overconfidence. "Well look at this beauty," one of them leered. "Are you a meister?" He nudged the boy to his left - his meister, probably. "Watch out, I think I might have to leave you for her."

Liz scowled. Actually, she wanted to punch this little fucker in the dick. What a horrible thing for a weapon to say to his meister, even if it was just a joke. But there was a thing called 'manners' that Kid always preached so she settled for her iciest death glare she could manage without transforming and shooting this newbie in the ass.

"Oh c'mon lighten up, babe," the same boy went on, "You look smokin in that dress. I bet you look even hotter when you smile."

Gross.

True, Liz had put a little extra effort into her appearance. She had a golden slip dress, new black heels, hair pulled up into an intricate bun, makeup on point. But it wasn't for some dimwitted newbies to gawk at her.

She just wanted to look nice - maybe even beautiful - for her meister.

Liz pushed herself off the wall she was leaning on and stomped into the crowds of people.

"Aw where ya going?" the boys called, following her through the dancing partners.

Liz cursed and tried to speed up, but it was almost impossible to move through the crowded center of the room without running into anyone.

To no surprise she stumbled, tripped, and fell without any hope of regaining her balance.

"Oof." Fumbling arms caught Liz around her waist and under her arms. Her rescuer made a small noise of astonishment, feet shuffling to keep their balance.

Liz blinked up, ballroom lights shining into her eyes. She was hanging almost horizontally as the mystery person's arms held up like they'd meant to dip her

"Elizabeth?"

Dark locks hung around her meister's face as he looked down at her. His eyebrows were quirked in confusion, lips pressed into a thin line of vague worry.

Kid set her on her feet, hands still ghosting around her waist. "Is everything okay-"

"Hey, beautiful, don't run! We just want to talk." The four boys cantered over to them. When the leader saw Kid, he froze. The latter three, not realizing the presence of the new Lord Death, smacked into their leader.

Kid's arm wrapped around his weapon's waist, fingers pressing into her sides. His pinky was twitching - the same way he fired Liz in weapon form.

"Gentlemen," he addressed curty, "May I help you?"

The leader stuttered. "I uh… we were just uh… we were talking…"

"You were talking to my weapon?" Kid filled in. 'Yes, I can see that."

Leader's eyes bugged. "_Your weapon…_?"

"Yes. My weapon," Kid repeated. "Is there something we can help you with? Because if not I'd like for us to have a dance, if you wouldn't mind."

The boys were barely able to choke out "yes, Lord Death," before scrambling away like they'd seen death… which, actually they sorta had.

Liz chuckled. "I think one of them wet themselves."

She turned to her meister; 6 foot, moonlight skin, slender, face rid of any remaining baby fat, all wrapped up in a meticulously fitted black suit that had Liz staring for _way_ too long.

Damn tailored polyester.

"Thanks," she managed to get out.

Kid's lips curled into a half smile of amusement. "Your dress matches my eyes."

Liz blushed. "Uhm, yeah. I know."

Kid's hands moved to hover around her; one wrapping around her back while the other secured his hold on her hand. With his lead they swayed to Soul's piano.

Liz sighed heavily and rested her head on her meister's broad, steady chest. "Idiots," she muttered against his tie.

Kid chuckled and rested his cheek atop her head. His breath puffed into her hair. "Well they were right about one thing," he whispered. Liz felt the slightest press of his lips against her hair.


	4. Grind On Me (NSFW Week 2015 - Dance)

**6/24/15**  
**Post Canon Setting**  
**Genre: Smut**  
**Warnings: Rated M**

**Prompt: NSFW Week 2015  
Pairing: SoulxMaka**

* * *

Some genius decides to highjack the DWMA's speaker system and replace the music Soul had ever so meticulously picked out for the gala with whatever mainstream hip hop people listen to nowadays.

Most of the students hoot, and thus begins the dreaded fist pumping and monotonous bass.

Soul doesn't know whether to break down right there - because he spent all night putting together that mix and because Jason Derulo has gotten way too perverted over the years - or slink over to the bar in defeat. Either way he's disappointed Frank Sonatra had to be replaced with 'Talk Dirty.'

But somewhere among his despair Maka comes along and pulls him onto the dance floor. She's wearing a hunter green spaghetti strap dress that flares out after cinching at her tiny waist. It stops just above her knees and holy fuck she's wearing heels tonight.

The music is shit, but there's absolutely no way Soul could say no to his partner.

As Maka drags him towards the middle of the crowd Soul bitterly contemplates the DWMA students' issue with physical affection. Because death there was always so much unnecessary touching. With random weapon and meister pairs, with Spartoi (like what the hell Kim you're making Jackie's face turn scarlet and jeez Black Star could you be any more obvious?), and most importantly with _him and Maka_.

But partners are supposed to be comfortable with each other, right?

Soul thinks they've definitely crossed that line. Years ago.

When Maka's ass presses back against his pelvis Soul makes a sort of strangled noise that sounds a lot like a dying toucan.

Wow, very smooth, Mr. Cool Guy.

Soul tries to regain his swagger and slips into Maka's rhythm.

Ok, hold up. Who the fuck taught Maka how to grind?

The room suddenly heats up at least twenty degrees. Soul runs a nervous hand through his hair while trying to force himself to move comfortably to the beat.

She's really not making this easy for him.

He's not a bad dancer. Sure, it's not exactly what his family taught him, but rhythm certainly wasn't a foreign concept. Though usually he didn't have perky blonde meisters who may or may not have shown up more than once in certain dreams grinding into him. His pants are suddenly a little too tight.

For fuck's sake.

The chorus begins and Maka turns around to face him. She looks up with a mischievous little smirk that has him swallowing nervously. Her hands smooth over his broad chest, down the polyester of his pin striped suit that's suddenly way too warm and itchy.

Her thigh raises slightly and presses up against his groin as she straddles one leg. She continues to move to dance, smugly aware that his pants are getting tighter and tighter every time she sways her hips.

He leans down into her ear. "Maka," he hisses, "what are you doing?"

She turns her head, blonde hair flying around her face. "Dancing. What does it look like?"

The bass deepens and so do Maka's movements. She grabs his hands and puts him on her waist. Then with a wicked grin she raises her arms above her head, hips swaying side to side.

What the actual fuck.

Beads of sweat gather at the back of Soul's neck and his heart is pounding in his throat.. Breathe. Move. Breathe and - _oh shit that felt really good jesus fucking christ._

Soul's fingers dig greedily into her sides and he buries his face in the curve of her neck. His breath puffs against her skin, coming out in short pants and gasps as his eyes flutter shut.

She's still straddling his leg, still grinding against him like she's hell bent on giving him blue balls.

He's practically salivating by the time the song ends. At least he makes it that far.

Maka turns around and a smile curls across her mouth. Soul presses his forehead against hers, lips just inches away from a much needed kiss.

He hovers for a few moments; breath panting against her cheeks, squirming, trembling.

Soul almost forgets where he is, almost hooks his finger in her dress straps until someone shouts through the crowd, "Yo, Eater, get a room!"

Soul grunts and yanks Maka out of the room before she can pummel Black Star with a dictionary.


	5. Sleepy Echoes (NSFW Week 2015 - Shower)

**6/26/15**  
**Post Canon Setting**  
**Genre: Smut**  
**Warnings: Rated M**

**Prompt: NSFW Week 2015 Shower  
Pairing: SoulxMaka**

* * *

The mission is killer.

Spartoi is called to Spain. Kid finds them a nice hotel, but it's hard to enjoy the multitude of different pillow consistencies when even the floor looks like goose feathers.

It's almost 2am when they drift lazily into the bathroom, gently removing each other's uniforms in half sleepiness.

Soul comes up behind his meister, hands slipping around her waist. He rests his head down on her shoulder and hums against her skin.

Maka sighs, eyes barely open as she sinks back against her partner's broad chest. "Good job today," she yawns softly.

"Mmmm." Soul presses soft kisses along her neck. "I should be the one saying that to you. Sorry I couldn't block that one attack," he says, eyes opening only to eye the cut across her left collarbone. "Shoulda been there for you."

Maka reaches behind her and strokes her hand along his cheek. "You always are."

Soul nuzzles into her palm, exhaling heavily.

Maka reaches further to the back of his neck, fingers lightly scratching through his hair. She hushes his distressed sigh, "Believe me, Soul," and "You are good enough, Soul, more than good enough."

She turns her head, nose burrowing into icy white hair as she whispers sleepily into his ear, "I love you, Soul."

Soul shudders and lets out a breath. "Love you too," he whispers back. "Let's get cleaned up."

His hands move up her torso to unsnap the buttons of her uniform. He slides the jacket off her shoulders, fingers grazing down her arms as he does.

Next go her shirt and skirt. Soul's fingers trail across her skin, leaving tingles that travel up Maka's spine and make her head all fuzzy. She stands in front of him in her bra and underwear and turns to face him.

Maka unhooks Sou's belt and slides off his pants. His arousal is growing and Maka's thighs clench. When she helps him take off his shirt he groans, muscles sore from being in weapon form.

Both in their underwear they share a heated look.

Soul bends down and presses his forehead against hers. Their lips part, quivering, ghosting around each other in a teasing dance.

Soul breaks away first - ever so patient, turning on the shower and slipping off the last of their clothes.

He pulls Maka under the water; silent, slow, red eyes half open but simmering with lust.

Maka exhales when the water washes over her face. Her voice bounces off the tile and glass. It's breathy and full and it makes Soul's stomach burn.

He meets her under the stream.

Lips finally press together and eyes flutter shut. Maka runs her hands up his back, tracing toned muscles that tense under her fingers. She shifts her hips to grind against him. It's slow, but strong enough to make him gasp and dig his fingers into her lower back where he grabs her.

She does it again; leisure circles that draw out long breathy groans.

The shower turns his voice into echoes - sultry repeats that remind Maka how much she loves his voice.

Her own tension is building in her lower abdomen and she clenches her legs together, toes curling on the shower floor. She keeps her legs closed, only allowing agonizing friction to be his source of pleasure.

Maka reduces her weapon to a shaking mess. His knees wobble so much he can barely keep himself upright and he's gasping on his whimpers and grunts. He presses his face against Maka's collarbones when it's too hard to stand straight and his breath puffs against her skin.

Tonight's love making is patient and tender, taking moments to feel _everything._

Their shower holds a storm of wanton voices and roaring water.

Finally, _finally, _Maka shifts her hips and spreads her legs for him.

Soul lifts her up and braces her against the tiled wall. Maka wraps herself around him, ankles linking together and hands holding his shoulders.

He slips inside and his body is on fire.

Water drums down their tensed muscles; echoing beats in time with their movements.

Maka's back arches against the shower wall. Angles increase, pressure intensifies. She whimpers, moans.

Soul has buried his face in the crook of Maka's neck. His eyebrows knit together and he's gasping through the rising steam.

He doesn't think he'll last much longer. Everything in him is screaming to hold on, to _wait _until she's satisfied first. But she's so warm and her whimpers are echoing through the bathroom.

Maka's hands move to the back of his neck, muscles clenching, feet pointing and flexing.

Soul grunts into her shoulder and he unravels in one last moan. Maka does too, crying out with her head tilted back.

Soul has to catch himself, arms braced against the wall while his Meister slides down to the floor.

It sounds like gunfire when someone bangs on the wall. "We are _right _next door!" Liz Thompson exclaims.

Soul's eyes fly wide open and Maka slams her hands over her mouth. For a few moments the only sound is the drip of water from the shower head.

...Until Patty's laughter rattles through the hotel.


End file.
